


The Bear and Bird

by Zoi no miko (zoi_no_miko)



Category: Person of Interest (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Daemons, College, Daemons, Fluff, Fluff and Smut, Frottage, M/M, Mutual Masturbation, Protectiveness
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-04-06
Updated: 2016-04-20
Packaged: 2018-05-31 15:38:39
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 5
Words: 9,814
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6476098
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/zoi_no_miko/pseuds/Zoi%20no%20miko
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Harold Wren's strategy for MIT was the same as it was in school: Find the biggest, dumbest daemon around, and hide behind it.</p><p>Nathan Ingram and his huge, lumbering Grizzly Bear were the obvious choice.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

  * For [talkingtothesky](https://archiveofourown.org/users/talkingtothesky/gifts).



Harold Wren's strategy for MIT was the same as it was in school: Find the biggest, dumbest daemon around, and hide behind it.

A Grizzly Bear was the obvious choice.

The Grizzly and her person drew Harold's attention immediately on campus at registration - the well-dressed man, walking with his well-dressed parents, his massive daemon filling the path behind him as if daring anyone else to take his place in the world. It was a behavior Harold was more than familiar with. It was easy enough to follow them, easy enough to find out his identity, sending Athenea up to perch unnoticed on the light fixture above the admissions desk where he sat with his parents. 

Nathan Ingram.

That the Ingrams came from money - and a lot of it - made him an even better choice. People would expect great things of Nathan Ingram, enough that they'd hardly notice if some of those things originated from his little shadow of a room mate. That was easy enough to set up as well; the MIT computers were embarrassingly easy to hack into. He saw a few inconsistencies in the data that make him think that he wasn't the first person to hack his way in, either, and placed himself in the other half of Nathan Ingram's dorm room without guilt.

He'd thought it would be easy, when he walked into their thankfully over sized, first floor dorm late in the evening of intake. Nathan's parents, as he'd hoped, were already gone. He gave a slightly nervous smile as he stepped into the room - up close, the Grizzly was even more overwhelming than he'd thought. "Nathan, right? I'm Harold."

"It is. And you're Harold Wren," Nathan said, looking him over appraisingly as he moved to meet him at the door. His daemon looked to where Athenea perched on Harold's shoulder, her large black eyes glittering with unexpected intelligence.

"Wren like the little bird that was looking over our shoulder during registration. What a coincidence, Nathan."

"A coincidence indeed." Nathan leaned closer to him, but despite Harold's pounding heart, he didn't seem angry. Instead his blue eyes narrowed, lips turning into a curious smirk, and he lowered his voice. "Did you hack the admissions systems, Harold Wren?"

The half-growled words sent both a spike of dread through him and an unexpected shiver of desire. Was it his tone, or the fact that Nathan had called him out so confidently and intelligently? Or perhaps it was both, piled on top of Nathan's square jaw and the set of his blue eyes, the proud, Roman noise and all the other things that Harold definitely was not supposed to find handsome.

He drew a deep breath and forced himself to remain outwardly calm. "I'm not sure I know what your talking about, Mr. Ingram."

"Mr Ingram?" Nathan straightened with a bath of laughter. "What do I look like, the headmaster? Come on, come in. You have any more stuff? I left you the small half if the room, hope you don't mind."

"Completely understandable." The reply was automatic, which was a good thing, because Harold found a good chunk of his thought processes suddenly dedicated to trying to reevaluate the man in front of him.

That he'd vastly underestimated Nathan Ingram in both intelligence and, er, looks, was quite worrying, and as he tucked his things away, he chided himself mentally for throwing everything into the first and most obvious choice of beards without stopping to really investigate Nathan, or any other options. He could try and reassign himself, of course, but at this point that might bring more attention to him than just staying put and making a go of it here. He wished he could have a private moment to discuss it with Athenea, who'd hopped to perch on the top of the wardrobe.

He'd made a habit of traveling light; easier to drop an identity if needed and slip into one of his backups. By the time he'd tucked away the contents of two battered suitcases and a backpack (half clothes, larger half books) it was clear that he was just going to have to do the best he could with what he'd given himself.

"I'm curious, Nathan... if, theoretically, you discovered that someone had tampered with your living arrangements - not that anyone has - why allow it? Surely you have the resources to arrange any kind of dorm situation you wish."

"I could. Theoretically." He smirked at the words, still in Harold's space, perching on the edge of his desk. "But I think that if something like that were to theoretically happen, it would be far too interesting to reverse."

"Interesting?"

"Of course. People only put themselves into a space with Lajardis to benefit from her strength, either to get more attention or to deflect it. I don't think you're the attention-grabbing type. So then the question is... what are you trying to hide, Harold Wren?"

Lajardis. The name put Harold in mind of some ancient Babylonian Queen, regal and fierce. Fitting, he decided. He inclined his head respectfully towards her. "A noble name. I'm pleased to make your acquaintance, Lajardis. This is Athenea. I hope you'll both forgive me if I keep my secrets secret? I'm a rather... private person. But I think you'll find that I can be useful to you."

Lajardis regarded him for a moment, then looked to Nathan. "What an odd little bird we've found."

Nathan's eyes were still on him, a smile playing about his lips, not bothering to try and hide his intrigue. Harold found himself caught between being worried by it and worryingly attracted to it . 

"What an interesting little bird we've found indeed."


	2. Chapter 2

Harold wasn't completely virginal. He'd had some experience with girls, at home, before he had to run. It was nice, though fumbled and awkward in the way it tended to be with teenagers. Still, he had fond memories of the kisses of his childhood. The occasional afternoon of surreptitious groping. The sunlit afternoon in the hay field with Sue Coleman, her luscious breasts bare and her hand around his cock as she rubbed herself against his thigh.

He hadn't allow himself look at the boys. Never more than a brief glance. Everyone talked in small towns, and anyone who was different was fair game. His father made him a sympathetic figure despite his oddness, but he couldn't afford to stand out any more than he already did.

He tried to tell himself that it was only this lack of experience that made being around Nathan such a heady experience. But there was strange a kind of magnetism to Nathan, Harold couldn't help but realize. A gravity that drew people to him, to flutter around him, to bask in the brightness of his personality. Nathan appeared to be as straightforward with them as he'd been with Harold when they'd first met, though as time went on Harold couldn't help but notice that despite his apparent lack of guile, Nathan always seemed to get what he wanted. It was an intriguing, masterful way to have with people.

And still, despite the admirers, very few seemed to actually get close to him. Harold couldn't quite figure out if Nathan was subtly pushing them away, or if they were simply too overwhelmed by the brightness of the sun to stay in it for long. There were a few who managed - Arthur, of course, with his manic genius, who'd recognized the same in Harold. Sometimes James, who was too distracted by numbers to be distracted by Nathan's smile. Most of the girls in their year had been drawn in long enough for at least a date or three, but Nathan always seemed more serious about their work than truly making a go of it - another surprise to Harold.

Not being serious didn't mean not being _casual_ , though, something Harold quickly realized the first time Nathan pulled him out into the Friday night campus nightlife, to drinks with giggling, rosy-cheeked girls and a _lot_ more experience gained in the back of Marianne's car.

She was nice, and the things they did together were _very_ nice, but Harold felt strangely detached. He didn't know her, and Athenea showed no interest in her small ermine daemon, and it was hard to feel motivation to want to see her again. After the second time that going out with Nathan resulted in that kind of a situation, he started to avoid it, to get Nathan drunk and distracted enough that he could slip out of the bar and head for home.

He didn't allow himself to look at Nathan. Never more than a brief glance. The intelligent flash of blue eyes, the curl of those lips, how good they'd feel....

He didn't miss the way Lajardis always watched him leave.

He let himself get a little too drunk during the last week of IAP, drunk enough that when Nathan gleefully whispered "Twins, Harold!" In his ear, he found himself somehow going along with it. Found himself letting Nathan and Lajardis heard them back to their dorm room, found himself being pulled into kisses with - was it Amanda, or Alice? Both? They both tasted like cherry, lipsticked lips lush and sweet. The logical part of his mind knew that going back to the dorm with Nathan would eventually mean being naked with Nathan, but he was drunk enough that the idea induced far more thrill than panic.

Athenea didn't seem to disapprove of the idea either, settling happily on top of the wardrobe with the girl's daemons, a crow and a dove. He briefly wondered which one belonged to the girl whose tongue was currently down his throat. She wiggled close to him eagerly, the curve of her hips and the plumpness of her ass soft and compelling under his hands. Then she pulled back to murmur something in her sister's ear, and the other girl laughed, pulling away from Nathan, smirking up at him as she stroked her hands around her sister, along the waistband of her short, ruffled skirt.

"You want to watch us kiss?"

Nathan's smile widened, appreciative. "I'd love to."

Amanda-Alice inclined her head toward Harold. "Then we want a show first."

Harold half expected Nathan to laugh it off, half feared he'd react in disgust. The last thing he expected was those warm, broad hands sliding around his waist, Nathan's breath warm on his jaw as he leaned in to nuzzle his ear. "Well, little bird? How about it?"

The logical part of his mind knew that it was a very, very bad idea. But Nathan's hands felt like brands on his skin, his blue eyes dark and intent, all pupil in the dim lamplight of the dorm room. Logic crumbled under that kind of heat, and Harold found himself arching up to claim those smiling lips with his own, a soft whimper escaping his throat at the sudden, intense rush of desire it brought.

Nathan's groan was far less restrained, and Harold was suddenly and completely overwhelmed by the heat of Nathan's presence, the strength of his body, the taste of cheap vodka on his tongue as he licked into Harold's mouth. It was impossible for Harold not to think about how long he'd wanted this, how long he'd denied wanting this, wanting to be the sole focus of Nathan Ingram's attention.

Nathan's fingers dug into the small of his back, pulling him close, closer, kisses just as demanding, and Harold was too drunk to worry, intoxicated far more from Nathan's kisses than from the drink. He arched up against Nathan with a helpless moan, against the wonderful hardness he could feel tenting the front of Nathan's jeans. Nathan's hands slid down to his ass to encourage it, encourage Harold to grind his own erection into the heat of his body, then repeating the motion.

"Look," Nathan breathed. His hands tightened on Harold's ass as he nudged his face towards the girls, starting to trail hot kisses along Harold's jaw. Alice-Amanda were trading soft pecks as they watched, giggling together, soft and appreciative. They'd certainly done this before, completely at ease with the teasing caresses they exchanged as they undressed each other until all that was left was a matched set of black and white bras and panties, small and lacy.

"Beautiful," he gasped, unsure himself if he meant the picture in front of him or the kiss bruise Nathan was enthusiastically sucking into the side of his neck.

The whole night proved heady and erotic and confusing. He was certain he shared as many kisses with Nathan as he did with either of the girls, certain that Nathan's hands were on his body as much as theirs were. He finally ended up spread across the width of Nathan's delightfully accommodating Queen bed, with the twin with white bra straddling him, her lush breasts scooped out of said bra and bouncing beautifully as she rocked down onto his cock. But when Nathan pushed the other twin down next to him, Harold found he couldn't keep his eyes off his friend, couldn't stop himself from watching the way Nathan's thick cock disappeared into the other girl's welcoming body. 

And Nathan was looking back.

Nathan was returning his gaze, looking at Harold with as much desire as he'd looked at the girls, and suddenly Harold couldn't think about anything but being in her place, letting Nathan pin him to the bed, grinding up against the weight of his body and the hardness of his cock. He found himself bucking into the twin above him, fucking up desperately into the bliss of her body, fingers clutching her hips. But his focus wasn't on her gasps of pleasure as she touched herself but on Nathan, on Nathan's parted lips and breathless groans, the bunch of his sweat-streaked muscles as he moved.

God, Nathan....

Harold bit his lip against saying the name on his tongue and closed his eyes, trying to force his mind away, trying to hold off. Thankfully Amanda-Alice knew what she wanted, bucking down onto him and taking her pleasure, crying out breathlessly as her body shuddered around him with pleasure. Thankfully, because he couldn't last long. Not with Nathan looking at him like that. He arched up into her with a breathless groan, hips stuttering up as his passion neared its peak, as he watched his friend fuck his girl more desperately.

"Oh god yes," Nathan gasped, half desperate, half triumphant. "Fuck, yes - !" And Harold came harder than he'd ever come before to the sound of Nathan's pleasure, ecstasy whiting out the world around him.

Afterward he did his best to ignore it, trading soft kisses with the white-lingeried twin, forcing his attention away from Nathan's face between the other girl's thighs. It was easy enough to curl up with his sated lover, to let the heaviness of the drink and the warmth of sexual satisfaction pull his body to a mostly unfeigned level of relaxation.

It was far easier than having to look at Nathan, to think about what had transpired and how much he'd liked it. So when his lover carefully slipped from his arms he kept his eyes closed and his breathing careful, mentally willing Athenea to back his play. He listened to Nathan bid the girls farewell, soft, sweet words, finally shutting and locking their dorm room door behind them. The room fell into silence apart from the soft tick of the alarm clock, and Nathan gave a long sigh.

"Well. Wasn't that a hell of a thing."

"You could call it that." Lajardis' voice was just as quiet as Nathan's murmur, but held an affectionate note. "Are they asleep?"

Harold felt the mattress dip as Nathan sank down beside him. He fought not to react to the feel of Nathan's hand on his shoulder, stroking his skin gently, then running down his spine. Nathan let out another slow sigh, silent for a long moment, fingers lingering on the small of his back, and Harold had to fight not to react, not to press into the gentleness of his touch or flinch away from it entirely.

Finally Nathan reached over him to grab the blanket at the foot of the bed, pulling it over him and tucking it around him. He gently tugged Harold's glasses off, hesitating a moment before pressing a soft kiss to his temple. "Goodnight, little bird," he murmured, then pulled away, turning out the lamp and settling in beside him. He didn't try to touch him, but Harold could still feel his presence, the heavy weight of uncertainty as Nathan's breath eventually slowed into sleep.

Harold dozed long enough, until he could slip out of Nathan's bed without waking him and go back to his own, pulling back on his underwear and carefully tiptoeing around the furry bulk of Lajardis curled on the floor at the side of Nathan's bed. He felt slightly reassured when Athenea fluttered down to join him, curling up against his neck as she did so often, and her silent comfort was enough that he could finally, truly fall asleep.

~~~

The next morning he woke to sunlight, to the smell of food and Nathan setting his glasses down on his bedside table. "Sorry, didn't mean to wake you. I brought breakfast back, if you want anything. And coffee."

"Perfect," Harold managed, mouth thick from sleep, fumbling with his glasses.

Nathan, grinning with a hint of smugness, offered him a cup of coffee. "So, last night. Twins."

Twins. Yes. Focus on that. Harold chuckled into his coffee, taking a long swallow. "Well, that happened."

"It sure did," Nathan replied, and echoed Harold's chuckle as he handed him a takeout box.

He said nothing else, thank god, because if he had Harold wasn't sure if he'd have been able to stop himself from replying, from spilling this terrible revelation that he very much wanted to do it again without any girls involved at all.


	3. Chapter 3

Nathan's strategy for Harold Wren was simple, in theory: make the little bird feel safe and hope to someday hear him sing.

In reality, it definitely proved to be a long game. Whatever Harold had gotten himself mixed up with in the past, it had made him cautious, closed off. He put up a good front, of course, interacting with their schoolmates and the faculty with the proper measure of perceived openness and friendly camaraderie, but he never actually revealed much of consequence.

It would be different, with them. Nathan was certain of it. He just needed to stay the course.

He'd catch Harold looking, sometimes. Longing, like that night when they'd brought home Amanda and Alice Cleary to play. It was hard not to react to those looks, not to pull Harold close like he had that night, taste the soft sweetness of his lips and feel him tremble against him. But it was too soon for that. Seducing Harold Finch was something he longed to do almost as much as gaining the man's trust, but he was quite certain that moving on the first too soon would only be detrimental to the second.

(He longed, sometimes, to call Amanda and ask to meet up with them again, just to see if he could get it to work a second time. He didn't. He dated others instead, pretty girls and the occasional pretty man, and sometimes entertained the thought of falling in love. But his mind was already too otherwise occupied for that.)

He was fairly certain that whatever it was in Harold's past that had locked him up as tight as a safe must have had to do the man's strangely innate skill with computers, and must have been, if not illegal, then at least something that would bring him far too much attention from the wrong type of people. 

He was also fairly certain that Harold was still engaged in something similarly questionable. 

It wasn't anything he could prove, of course. He would have had to be quick enough to keep up with Harold, to do that. And Harold at a computer was a whole 'nother thing, fingers flying over the keys, lines appearing on the screen so quickly that often he couldn't determine whether Harold was typing them himself or calling them up from whatever he was connected to in the world wide web. He seemed to understand code as naturally as breathing; Nathan was fairly certain that Harold finished his assignments in an eyeblink and spent most of their labs pursuing other initiatives, appearing completely focused on his screen. Every once and awhile he'd lean over, tell Nathan why he was stuck and how to fix it. Then he'd disappear back into his work without hardly missing a beat.

He was definitely up to something that was either completely groundbreaking or completely illicit. Harold spent far too many long nights in the lab for anything else. Nathan's attempts to inquire had yet to produce any results, but he was playing the long game. Instead of getting frustrated, he simply made it a habit to go into class early whenever Harold pulled an all nighter in the lab, bringing two large cups of coffee with him.

Which was how, at 5:30 am on a Friday morning, he saw campus security ushering a pair of men in Suits across the quad and knew, with dreadful certainty, that they were looking for Harold.

He forced himself not to break stride, to calmly climb the steps to the building without looking back again. But as soon as the door was closed behind Lajardis they broke into a run, barely managing not to spill the coffee. He saw a small flutter of feathers ahead of him as Athenea flew into the lab, and when he pulled the door to the lab the rest of the way open Harold was already on his feet.

"Nathan! What - "

"Get down," he hissed, dumping one cup of coffee directly onto the computer in front of Harold with only a flick of thought towards the fact that his father was probably going to kill him over the expense.

"Get down? We have to get out of here, we - "

"No time," he shot back. Then he looked to Lajardis, praying that Harold would forgive him this sin. "Hide him."

She nodded, one great paw swiping out to pull Harold to her then down to the floor, curling around him to neatly and completely hide his small frame in the bulk of her fur. Feeling her touch him made Nathan's head spin, made his nerves crawl razor sharp, but he forced himself to keep himself in the game, knocking over one of the room's chairs and tossing the second cup of coffee over the floor and tables in a hopefully believable fashion. "Fuck!" He yelled loudly, then pulled off his coat, trying to mop ineffectively at the coffee covering the smoking workstation Harold had been at.

Moments later campus security burst into the room, their dog daemons darting ahead as they scattered to search it, and Nathan prayed that Athenea was hidden with Harold. One of the suits grabbed his arm, yanking him away from the smoking computer. "You! What the hell do you think you're doing?"

"Trying to keep my father from killing me!" Nathan shot back. "I just got here, I tripped on a damn chair leg. I thought the machines were off, but - "

"You just got here?"

"I saw him on the quad," one of the security officers said, watching her daemon as the collie sniffed at a vent in the floor, then moved on to a bookshelf. "We've only got one bear at MIT."

"Convenient that you tripped and spilled coffee on the only active workstation in the lab. "

"Right, 'cause I want my dad to cancel my trip to Paris this summer? I'm sorry, I'm a damn klutz. They don't exactly make these labs for bears!"

Lajardis gave a soft growl as if in agreement, though when he glanced down he realized she was growling at one of the dogs, who'd been circling her. It took a nervous step back and gave her a wide berth.

"There's no-one else here," One of the campus officers called over to the suits. The one still clutching Nathan's arm gave a frustrated growl.

"There was no-one in here when you got here? No one using this workstation, you didn't see anyone leaving?"

"I didn't. Now can you please let me clean this up before I owe MIT my firstborn child?"

The second suit had been examining the workstation and gave a little snort. "Too late for that, son." He glanced to his partner. "Think we mapped the connection wrong? Lot of labs in this building. We need to split up and search them before the target realizes the building's been breached." 

"Goddammit. Search them too, then." Then he glared at Nathan, the crow on his shoulder mirroring the expression. "You. What's your name?"

"Nathan Ingram. Who the hell are you?"

"FBI." He flashed his badge too fast for Harold to catch his name. "You telling the truth? You really just got here?"

"You think I could lie? She's the only bear on campus."

"Fine. But don't go anywhere. You leave this lab before we get back and you'll have more than a broken computer to deal with."

Nathan followed them to the door, then forced himself to take a deep breath and count to ten. Then he nodded to Lajardis, who carefully lifted herself up off of Harold.

The loss of contact was a relief, but at the same time left him feeling strangely hollow.

"Nathan, what the hell!" Harold was white faced and trembling as he picked himself up out of the crouch Lajardis had forced him into.

"I'm sorry. I didn't know what else to do." Movement near the floor vent caught his eye, and Nathan glanced over in time to see a tiny dark shape squeeze herself from between the metal slats, wings whirring as she crossed the room. Athenea? He pushed the shock away. "You have to get out of here. Leave campus for a few days. I'll tell the profs you left last night to go see your sick grandmother. Call me Sunday night, I'll let you know if it's safe to come back."

Harold pushed open the door a crack, watching as Athenea darted outside. "Grandfather, not grandmother. Why are you covering for me?"

"We can talk about that when you get back. Go!"

"A moment." After a few heartbeats, the tiny dark blur returning, hovering by Harold's ear to whisper something, then landing on his shoulder. When she stilled Nathan could finally make out her form - a tiny gray-blue hummingbird, barely larger than a bumblebee. Harold's lips pinched. "She says they're outside watching the doors. Can you get me across the hall to the utility closet by the bathrooms?"

"Might as well clean this coffee up." Nathan stepped out, nodding to Lajardis, who followed, drawing herself up as tall as possible without standing on her hind legs. Harold put her between him and the outside doors at the end of the hall, crouching as they made their way to the utility closet, being careful not to touch her again. Nathan wasn't entirely surprised when he produced a key for the closet, unlocking it and slipping inside.

He caught the door before it could close all the way, feeling a sudden spike of fear. "You will come back, won't you?"

Harold hesitated, glancing through gap in the doorway, down the hall. "Nathan, I...."

"I'll keep you safe. I promise. Just come back. Please?"

After a moment's hesitation Harold nodded, and disappeared into the closet.

"I'll stay here and guard," Lajardis murmured, and Nathan stroked a hand over her fur in thanks, going into the bathroom to wet down the coffee stains on this shirt and the sleeve of his jacket.

He came back out just in time to see Harold disappear around the corner at the far end of the hall, pushing a mop bucket. He was barely recognizable, glasses off, clothes covered with a denim service jumpsuit and shaggy hair tucked up under a hat. A large, fluffy gray pigeon perched on the ringer of the bucket, watching them as they disappeared.

He pressed close to Lajardis, resting an arm across her great back and smoothing down her fur as if it could soothe the ache on his frazzled nerves from being _touched_. The thought of having to still get through a day of school - and dealing with the FBI - was a looming mountain of dread and uncertainty.

"He'll come back," Lajardis said softly, nuzzling his shoulder, and Nathan nodded, trying to hold to her faith as they went back to the computer lab.

~~~


	4. Chapter 4

The first time Harold had been forced to run, he'd hurt no-one but himself and Athenea. His father hadn't known him to miss him, his daemon Jolena nesting silent and barely responsive in the nest of blankets in his lap, as if she was no more than a wild pheasant in the prairie grasses around their home.

Even though he'd always known that it would happen someday - the full loss of his father's memories - it had still hurt. It had hurt worse to have to run, to know he'd never see him again, never have the hope of seeing that flicker of recognition on his face. Never feel the comfort of Jolena cuddling Athenea under her wing.

That was the first time Athenea had changed since she'd settled, fluttering to his shoulder, a mirror of the American Robin they'd seen in the trees outside the care home. In hindsight it may have given them the edge they'd needed to escape the FBI that day, walking calmly out the side door while the FBI searched for a young man with a pheasant daemon trailing after him.

It had hurt, though, when he'd been so proud to have her settle like Jolena. Like a piece of his father that would remain even after his memories were lost. Now he didn't even have that.

"I didn't know you could still change," he said, once they were well away from The Pines.

"I didn't either," Athenea replied after a long moment. "But... we aren't that person anymore, Harold."

We aren't that person anymore, Harold thought as he stared at the board in the Boston North station. Money wasn't a problem. He'd learned, after the first time he'd had to run. A lot of the work he'd done since then had been to prepare himself for the eventuality of running again, secreting away nest eggs and new identities to go with them in dozens of cities across the US.

But his stomach twisted at the thought of leaving MIT. He'd really wanted to make a go of this, get an education to legitimize and bolster everything he'd taught himself. He wanted to keep this one identity. To feel normal.

He'd wanted to be Harold Wren.

Athenea, still a pigeon on his shoulder, groomed a strand of his hair with her beak. "We don't have to do this, you know. They don't know it was us."

"They could find out."

"They could find out wherever we go. Let's stay, Harold. Nathan covered for us. We can make it look like we were in Manchester all weekend. We don't have to run this time."

Harold tried to swallow around the knot in his throat, heart aching at her words. It was a mistake to stay, the logical part of him knew that. "I can't get Nathan caught up in this."

"Nathan got himself caught up in this, dear heart."

"But if he gets hurt...."

"Harold." Athenea's voice was soft, but stern. "You'll hurt him more if you don't."

He couldn't let himself think that. He had to make this decision rationally. Dispassionately. "He'll be fine, he - ow!" He rubbed his earlobe where she'd pecked at it, unseating her. Fluttering off his shoulder, she shot him a disapproving look as she landed on the back of a bench near the back of the waiting room, uncomfortably far away. It ached too much for him not to follow, despite knowing he was about to get chastised.

Athenea was silent for a long moment, though, finally sidling along the bench to press against his shoulder. "We need to go back, Harold. Think about what he did to help you. Think about what that means."

That was one thing Harold had been trying very hard not to think about at all. "I don't know what it means, and neither do you," he muttered, trying to force himself to feel annoyed at the question. 

He wanted to be mad at Nathan for throwing himself in harm's way. For taking measures that must have been, at the very least, incredibly invasive and uncomfortable for him. But all he could feel was the way he'd felt when Lajardis had been shielding him. Nathan's care and determination had left him feeling safe, protected regardless of the situation he'd stupidly put himself in. And the flutters of emotion he could feel from Nathan from being so close to his daemon.....

"Even if you don't know what it means, you know what you felt, dear heart. How he feels. How you feel. Please, Harold... you promised...."

He had, against his better judgement. But it didn't matter. Despite his arguments, he already knew that he couldn't leave MIT.

He couldn't leave Nathan.

~~~

 

It was raining, when he went back to MIT on Sunday evening, cold, constant drizzle that made everything feel dreary. Athenea, back to being a wren, huddled under his jacket collar as he hurried through the rain, and he turned the other side of his collar up, trying to keep out the icy trickles that were winding their way down his spine.

By the time he got back to residence he was soaked almost through and shivering, everything wet except for - hopefully - the contents of the backpack he'd clutched to his chest. He let go of it to fumble for his keys only to have the door unlock before him. Before he could say anything he found himself yanked inside and near crushed against Nathan's chest.

"I'm soaking wet," he tried to protest as Athenea took off from his shoulder with a disrupted squawk.

"Don't care," Nathan replied gruffly against his hair. His voice was rough, more emotional than Harold had ever heard him, and he couldn't help but enjoy the warmth of his arms as it slowly seeped through his soaked jacket.

Then he sneezed, and Nathan stepped back with a little noise of displeasure. "Dammit. You're gonna catch a coat. Get out of that. Where the hell are the towels...."

Harold fished his books out of his bag first, setting them out on his desk with shivering fingers, relieved to find them only a little damp. "Leave the books. You're more important," Nathan growled, and Harold found his jacket and shirt unceremoniously removed, and one of Nathan's large fluffy towels - formerly white, now a mottled pink from a bad laundry decision - thrown over his upper body.

"Nathan, I'm fine - " he tried to say, trying to find his way out of the towel, which Nathan seemed insistent on rubbing over his bare torso and hair vigorously. "I promise I am fully capable of drying myself - "

"Then get those soaked jeans off before I take them off myself."

His tone was joking, but Harold felt his cock twitch in interest regardless, and cursed himself. "I'm fine," he muttered again, stripping down to his boxers and digging for a new pair, bare skin sharp with goosebumps. Then he glanced back at Nathan. "Are you alright? What happened with...."

Nathan shrugged, turning to plug in the kettle, pulling out a tin of tea. "Not a whole lot. Lajardis and I can talk our way out of anything. Just don't tell anyone that I'm the reason the labs are now food and beverage free."

"We're sorry we got you in trouble."

Nathan's head jerked over to where Athenea was perched on the radiator. She didn't often address him - or anyone, really - and his smile was uncharacteristically bashful. "It's alright."

"It's really not." Harold tugged dry boxes into place, the cotton half sticking to his damp skin, then pulled on a pair of flannel pajama pants and went back to rubbing the towel over his wet hair. "I've set myself on a path in life that might not end well. I shouldn't have gotten you involved."

"And if I want to be?"

His words were soft, careful. Certain. It seemed suddenly inconceivable, completely absurd. Harold, still shivering, gave a disbelieving laugh. "Why?"

Nathan glanced to Athenea, lips twisting into a small, mirthless half-smile. "I like you. You fascinate me. You're the kind of person who's going to change the world, Harold. I want to be around long enough to find out how."

Harold's heart twisted, and he wrapped the towel around himself more tightly. "So I'm a mystery to be solved, then?"

"No." Nathan looked back to him, eyebrows knitting together slightly, gaze unmistakably wistful. He lifted a hand as if to reach out, then let it fall with his gaze. "You're someone precious that deserves to be protected," he muttered finally, and Harold couldn't help but remember exactly how it had felt to be enveloped by the warmth of Lajardis's fur, cuddled close and safe. The beautiful flickers of Nathan's protective determination and care.

Love.

"I'm sorry about what happened," Nathan said, voice low, still not looking at him. "I know it's forbidden. I just couldn't think of any other way to keep you safe. Please forgive me."

To touch another person's daemon, especially non-consensually, was the greatest taboo. But Lajardis had touched _him_ , not the other way around. Nathan had opened himself up to the greatest possibility of hurt or defilement, just to help him. Just to take care of him.

Harold stepped into him, pushing firmly away his brain's requests for further debate, and arched up to press a trembling kiss to Nathan's lips.

Nathan gave a low moan, halfway between relieved and needy, arms coming up to draw him close as his lips softened against him. Then he stroked his hands over Harold's arms and gave a soft noise of dismay. "God, you're freezing. That towel's wet. Let me get you something else, let me - "

"Nathan." Still shivering under his touch, he grabbed hold of his shirt before he could step away. "Please stay."

His expression softened into a smile, hand resting briefly over Harold's. "I'm not going anywhere. I promise. Just going to get you warmed up, alright?" He took the damp towel from him, replacing it with the thick wool blanket folded on the end of his bed, which was scratchy but thick. The tea kettle started whistling, and he procured two porcelain mugs they'd stolen from the cafeteria, throwing in some leaves and pouring the steaming liquid. Then he wrapped his arms around him again, pulling him close, warm and strong.

Harold let his face rest against his neck, drawing a slow breath, the mix of damp wool and the remnants of his aftershave masculine and reassuring. After a moment he felt Nathan's lips press to his forehead, breath warm on his skin. Feeling like he could hardly breathe himself, Harold turned his face up towards him, relief and desire rushing through him in equal measures as Nathan took the offering, claiming his mouth with a soft moan. His fingers tightened on the small of Harold's back through the blanket, and Harold's lips parted to his with a gasp, feeling completely helpless to the warmth of his kisses, the taste of his mouth, the eager caress of his lips and tongue.

Then he felt a huff of breath on his forearm and looked down to see Lajardis' muzzle inches from his skin. Her large black eyes were liquid as she looked up at him, imploring.

Nathan gave a shaky breath against his skin. "I'm sorry," he murmured. "I shouldn't have - she shouldn't - "

Harold reached one cold hand up to touch his jaw, wanting to be reassuring despite his own stomach twisting. "It's alright. How it felt... how she felt, Nathan, and you, I...."

Nathan froze under his touch, suddenly so vulnerable that Harold couldn't help but moan in dismay. He pressed a soft kiss to his mouth, then another, stroking his fingers up into his hair. "It's all right," he murmured. "It's alright, Nathan. I liked it. You felt so good...."

"Harold - " Nathan's fingers dug into the small of his back almost painfully, but Harold did nothing to dissuade him, kissing him again, longer, no longer certain if he was trembling from the cold or from this. Then he reached his other hand towards Lajardis' outstretched muzzle, giving her a gentle smile. A sigh escaped the great daemon, and she pressed the length of her muzzle against him, her fur soft and warm under his fingers.

The feel of it was different this time. More intense, more vulnerable. Nathan had felt so determinedly protective then. Now as he touched Lajardis the flickers of Nathan's adoration and desire brushed against Harold's awareness as fragile as bird wings.

Perhaps they weren't so different after all.

It was a thought that made him feel brave. He pressed his fingers deep into Lajardis's thick, shaggy fur against her cheek, marveling at the softness. Then he reached up with his free hand to pull Nathan down into another kiss, feeling his friend's desire flicker more strongly, his own arousal responding in kind.

"Will you help me get warm?" he asked, and watched his friend's eyes darken, hungry with want. His hands slid down to cup Harold's ass as he pulled them together, kisses more heated, yearning like they'd been the first night they'd kissed.

Lajardis moved away from his touch, and the loss of it was sudden and jarring. He gave a low moan of dismay, only to have Nathan kiss it away, guiding him to step backwards.

"Please let me..." he murmured, and Harold glanced back to find that Lajardis had drawn herself up on her haunches, her head nearly brushing the ceiling. Nathan's smile was tight and worried, so Harold returned it more gently, going pliant in his embrace as he arched up for another kiss. Nathan gave a relieved sigh, tugging the blanket from around his shoulders and pressing him back, back against the softness of his dameon's underbelly, warmth and love and adoration enveloping him completely.

The feel of it was overwhelming, and Harold gave a soft sob against his lips, pulling him closer. "God, Nathan...."

"Just wanna touch every part of you," his friend murmured, hands stroking restlessly over his hips and up his bare sides, warm brands of pleasure. He pulled from Harold's lips to kiss along his jaw, breathless and needy, teeth scraping at the sensitive point under his ear. "You're exquisite. God, Harold...."

"Please," Harold found himself gasping, hands stroking restlessly over his back, slipping under the hem of his shirt. He saw a flutter of wings, felt it the instant Athena landed on Lajardis' shoulder, cuddling into her fur. He gave a sob, heart aching with happiness. "Please, Nathan...."

"I liked watching you," Nathan murmured, lips hot on his neck. "That time when we were in bed with the girls. Haven't been able to stop thinking about you. Wanted to touch you, wanted you so bad...."

He stroked a hand down Harold's stomach as he spoke, and Harold couldn't help but arch up into it, encouraging his hand lower. He drew a shakey breath as Nathan smoothed his hand down the line of his cock, already hard with wanting, cupping and rubbing him through the flannel pajama pants. It left Harold unable to think about anything but more, and he caught Nathan's mouth with a whimper, pulling at the hem of his shirt until Nathan pulled it off, then filling his hands with the warmth of his skin, stroking down his back, over his ass. Part of him couldn't help but feel like he should have more finesse, but it was hard to listen to that with Nathan's fingers slipping under the hem of his boxers, closing around the length of his cock to stroke heat and pleasure through him.

Harold's hips gave a helpless buck up against his palm as he fumbled with Nathan's jeans. "I wanted you to," he gasped, finally pulling them down enough to free him, to curl his fingers around the gratifying hardness of his cock. He felt good, in Harold's palm, long and thick, and Nathan's little breathless groan and the way he stuttered up into the stimulation felt even better. "I wanted this, I just didn't think you'd want - " his breath caught on a whimper as Nathan drews his thumb over the head of his cock, rubbing slick through his arousal, stroking and pressing into the sensitive bundle of nerves under the head. "Oh god - !"

Nathan caught his mouth again, urgent and hungry, pulling his hand away only to wiggle Harold's boxers and pajamas down his hips. "How could I not want you?" he breathed, stroking him again, pushing up into Harold's touch. "Seeing you spread out on the bed like that, lost to pleasure... imagining you under me like that...."

It was far too close to his own fantasies. Harold gave a needy little whine, free hand clenching at the back of his neck, trying to arch closer to him. "Wanted you like that," he gasped, pressing back against Lajardis and rolling his hips up into Nathan's grasp, trying to return the delicious pleasure in kind. "Wanted you over me and inside me, god, Nathan - "

His friend gave a low, desperate moan, pulling Harold's hand from his cock and pushing their hips together, giving a helpless thrust against his stomach. "Make me so goddamn hard," he growled, repeating the motion, cock sliding against his damp skin, hard against Harold's erection. The friction of it was unexpectedly good, and Harold found himself arching up in kind, rutting against the warmth of his body with desperate want.

He whined into Nathan's mouth, fingers scrabbling desperately at his back for purchase, to anchor himself against the rut of their hips. One of Nathan's arms hooked down around his ass, strong and secure, enough that he could wrap one thigh up over his hips, pulling the weight of Nathan's body into him. It was hot and desperate and frantic and better than anything Harold could ever remember, the intensity of Nathan's desire pushing up against his own like his cock was, and in moments he was coming apart, crying out into Nathan's mouth as he spent himself between them.

Nathan gave a choked sob against his lips, hips jerking up against him, and Harold felt the most incredible rush of pleasure wash through him as he came. It was too much to handle, and Harold gave a shuddering gasp against his lips, reaching up to tangle his fingers in Nathan's hair, holding him close, never wanting it to end.

Afterwards he let Nathan tug him to his bed, letting go of him only long enough to clean them both off with the towel. He helped Harold tug his pajamas back into place, but kicked off his own jeans and boxers completely, half-blanketing Harold with his naked body as they curled together in bed. Lajardis didn't seem to mind being robbed of her normal spot and settled on her haunches on the floor beside them, resting the top of her great, furry body against the other side of him.

"Thank you, Harold," she said softly, and Harold felt his heart ache at the tenderness of his words. He reached out to stroke his fingers over her skull and felt Nathan give a long, pleased sigh against his neck.

He pressed a kiss to Nathan's hair. "This isn't too much for you?"

"No. It... it feels really good. Kind of surprised me before. She's been grabbed a couple of times, that hurt. But you...."

"Maybe it has to do with intention," Harold murmured, stroking his fingers through her fur and watching her eyes close in pleasure.

Athenea, nestled into Larjardis' shoulder and half invisible in the nest of fur gave a soft, pleased sigh as well. "You've always had good intentions," she said, and Nathan gave a happy hum.

His fingers drew slow, lazy patterns on Harold's chest as he shifted to look at her, silent for a long moment. "She's really something special, isn't she. Like you are."

His words sent a soft wave of warmth through Harold. "She's just me. She only changes when I have to."

Nathan hummed, content and adoring. He pressed a kiss to his jaw. "I'll keep you safe, you know. Regardless of however she changes."

It would be okay, to trust Nathan. Harold smiled, lips finding his. "I hope she doesn't have to. I want to stay just like this."

~~~


	5. Chapter 5

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Apparently by "fluffy Nathan/Harold" I meant schmoopy college sex. ^^;

It was strange, reading Nathan into his work. Articulating his goals, his thoughts and hopes for the future to someone other than Athenea. He half expected Nathan to chide him for taking such risks, and was surprised when Nathan almost immediately bought into his vision. Not only that, but as they started to work together he was amazed at how strategically Nathan thought.

The idea that he could be more successful with a partner - with the right partner - was astounding. Amazing. More fulfilling than he could have imagined.

... even if said partner was more than a little bit of a distraction at times.

Their first morning of summer break he woke up in their new off campus apartment, sandwiched in Nathan's bed between him and Lajardis, warm and safe in the bright morning sun that streamed through the blinds. He gave a soft, appreciative hum as Nathan pressed closer, his body warm and lax with sleep, cock half hard in contrast against Harold's thigh.

Sighing, he nuzzled his face to press a kiss to Nathan's mouth, feeling his friend respond sleepily, then with more interest, pressing closer to him as he woke.

"How can I keep my hands off you..." he murmured, pressing a hand between him and Lajardis, stroking down his spine, curving at the small of his back. He sucked Harold's bottom lip between his own and let his fingers trail farther, strokinng and cupping the curve of his ass.

Being the sole and complete focus of Nathan Ingram's attention was far more arousing than Harold had ever let himself contemplate in those early days when they'd first met. He knew he couldn't lay claim to that all of the time, nor did he want to. Nathan's love was too great not to be shared with as many who were worthy to bask in it, and Harold had no desire to monopolize that. Not when he might one day have to leave, even if it wasn't by his own volition. 

There were too many things that could go wrong, he'd murmured to Nathan in bed that first night that they were together. He had no way of knowing if he, too, would be affected by his father's condition, everything he'd worked so hard to learn and earn eaten away by genetics. It frightened him more than he'd ever admitted to anyone else. And Nathan had done his best to soothe him, and then to help him stop thinking - about it, the world, everything but the pleasure of Nathan's hands on his body.

He shifted back against the press of Nathan's fingers, encouraging more. He bit his lip on a moan as Nathan stroked down the crease of his ass, teasing light against his hole, and felt his cock jerk in arousal, hardening more against his thigh. "Please don't ever try to," he breathed, and Nathan gave a low, rumbling groan of appreciation, stroking him more firmly.

"No?" He wriggled closer, sighing as Harold hooked one thigh over his hips. "Was last night not enough for you, little bird?"

"That was last night," Harold replied, breath hitching as Nathan pressed a fingertip into him. His body, still lax and slick from their previous night's celebration of the new apartment, yielded easily, pleasure shivering up his spine from the stroke of his fingers. "Oh, yes...."

"Give you anything you want," Nathan murmured, rocking slowly against him. He pressed another finger alongside the first, fucking him with slow, lazy strokes. His mouth dropped to Harold's neck, licking up the length with an appreciative moan.

The press of his fingers was a delightful reminder of the night before, leaving Harold feeling breathless with want. He tried to press back into them, breath coming faster. "Your cock, Nathan. Please. Fuck me right here, just like this."

"Just like this?" Nathan nipped at the crook of his neck, then caught his mouth again, more hungrily. "You want me to make love to you up against my daemon, little bird?"

"Like the first night we were together," Harold breathed, whimpering as Nathan's fingers twisted inside him. "God, Nathan, please... just want to be completely wrapped up in you... want to feel how you feel when you're inside me, please...."

"Oh fuck, Harold...." Nathan kissed him hard, pulling away just long enough to grab a condom and lube from his bedside table, fumbling with the wrapper. Harold took it from him, pulling it open and rolling it down his shaft, marveling again at the girth, body aching in anticipation of remembered pleasure.

"Please," he murmured, gasping as Nathan pressed slick fingers back inside him. "I'm good, I'm good. Please take me, god, Nathan...."

It only took a moment for Nathan to push him more onto his back, slicking himself and pushing Harold's thighs up against his sides. Then he was pushing into him, gasping against Harold's mouth as the head of his cock stretched him open insistently. Harold closed his eyes to the rush of pleasure, letting one thigh rest up over the bulk of his daemon's body. Nathan's emotions flickered at his awareness, a heady mix of incredulous pleasure and desire and adoration as he sheathed himself in slow thrusts. "Oh my god, Harold...."

Harold pulled Nathan's mouth back to his, rolling his hips up against him with a breathless whine. "Feels so good," he managed to gasp, shuddering under him. Letting Nathan fuck him had been overwhelming enough the first time, though after weeks of feeling Nathan's fingers in and begging for more he'd been more than ready. Being penetrated by that gorgeous, impressive cock had been so very different and so much better all at once that he'd come just seconds before Nathan had, body shaking with a more intense pleasure than he'd ever thought possible.

Now he knew he'd been wrong, because feeling Nathan through his daemon was far more. In part it was his closeness, the thrum of Lajardis' energy against his nerves, the flickers of Nathan's emotion. In part was the way Nathan shivered against him as he rocked in him, slow and deep, completely overwhelmed. He couldn't help but wonder what it would feel like, and before he could question himself Athenea had flown to nestle herself against Nathan's hand where it clenched in the sheets. He gave a sob at the painful-bright rush of intensity, pleasure and vulnerability all mixed together, and heard Nathan echo it.

"Harold," he gasped desperately, rocking up harder into him. "Fuck, Harold - "

Don't ever let this end, Harold wanted to beg. His nerves felt flayed open, raw and vulnerable in a way that was somehow bright and sweet and good, more than he could have ever imagined. But he knew he was safe with Nathan, knew without a shadow of a doubt that all Nathan wanted was the pleasure that coursed through them as they come together. That all he wanted was to guard and nurture and cherish and love. All Harold has to do was let him.

He gave a sob of pleasure against Nathan's mouth, tangling his fingers in his hair and holding him to trembling kisses. Then Nathan moved, pulling him up onto his lap, pressed back against the warm bulk Lajardis' side. It broke the contact between him and Athenea, the sudden loss of it aching. "Nathan, please - "

"Shh, I'm here, little bird..." He rocked back into him with a groan, choking back a gasp as Athenea presses close again. "God, sweetheart... what you've given me...."

The new angle sent a flood of sensation through Harold with each thrust until all he could do was feel, crying out as it built and built too much and not enough and excactly perfect. Nathan's hips stuttered up into him, thrusts growing ragged as he echoed Harold's gasps. Then the peak of it was all that existed, bursting through him hot and bright, Nathan emotions of overwhelming pleasure compounding the sensations as he joined him, rocking deep and coming inside him.

For a long moment all he wanted was to stay lost, warm and sated, nerves thrumming with joy and mind singing with all the lovely post sex drugs, the tiny corner of his mind that was still rational told him. But it was hard to be rational when he was wrapped up in joy, when Nathan had moved a hand down to where Athenea curled against his knee, stroking his fingers over her body with the same gentle care he did with everything else when it came to Harold.

It was easy to cuddle and doze, to push aside thoughts of what needed to get done - there was so much to get done before they could work in the apartment without fear of being tracked hee - for the hedonistic immediacy of being wrapped up in Nathan. Even when he eventually pulled away Lajardis stayed, nuzzling Harold's spine, warm and affectionate. Finally Nathan returned to perch on the side of the bed, setting down one of the mugs he was carrying and stroking his fingers through Harold's hair.

"Tea? I got my mom to get me more of that Japanese stuff in the tin that you really liked."

"Yeah?" Harold smiled, sitting up enough to cup the heated ceramic in his hands, blowing on it and taking a careful sip. The earthy, rich flavour on his tongue instantly made him think of that first night in Nathan's bed, though by the time they'd gotten to the tea it had been only lukewarm. "It's delicious, thank you. What kind is it, anyway?"

Nathan shrugged. "I'll find out." 

"You take such care with me...."

"Thank you for letting me," Nathan replied, smile bright as the morning sunlight, and Harold felt himself thinking again that he'd never made a better choice than when he'd chosen Nathan Ingram.

~~~

**Works inspired by this one:**

  * [POI Miscellanea](https://archiveofourown.org/works/7480023) by [Bonnie131313](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Bonnie131313/pseuds/Bonnie131313)




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